I've got South Carolina on my... return address now

Greetings from the other side of the Mason-Dixxon line! Almost one month moved in, we are finally starting to settle into the new digs, and I'm trying desperately to get back to my normal (whatever that is) routine. (Thank you to my MIL whose email yesterday is what guilted inspired me to drag my butt out of bed this morning and hit the "publish" button on this thing. This post is dedicated to her and my mom, who both worked their fannies off trying to get us packed up in time for moving day; to my FIL, who traded in his robes for his muscle shirt and helped us lift all the things that he probably shouldn't be lifting; and to our friends back in Johnstown, who are still dealing with the aftermath of our tornado-like move.)

As we approached our big moving day, I summarized my really efficient (or so I thought) plan of attack with five simple "p" words. You can read about it here and here (pretty please, and if you wanted to leave me love on the site, I'd totally let you; being in transit when the articles were published, I didn't have a chance to publicize them). Looking back, perhaps the planning process can be described with only one letter, but I need a few more to describe the entire experience.

Abrasions (aka I fought the hutch, and the hutch won): Even though Hubby and I have been married for almost five years, we have very few pieces of "real" furniture. My china cabinet is one of those pieces, and one of which I'm extremely proud. When I had to make a split-decision between my wrists and the hutch of my cabinet, the choice was easy. The result was several abrasions to both wrists and a slightly sprained thumb, making the following day of lifting a bit of a challenge (but my hutch is sitting pretty).

Clampetts (See also Strategize): Despite having a seventeen-foot moving trailer, an SUV, and a five-foot trailer hitched to that, I still had to pack my car from floorboard to ceiling (and that's AFTER a ginormous garage sale). And before you even ask, yes, that's a boombox. I'm planning to take it on Antiques Roadshow 50 years from now.

Effort: Everyone put in tremendous effort during the move, including Mimi, who was an excellent supervisor, as I'm sure you can tell.

F#*$ (just kidding... kinda) Forgetfulness: The expletive came after the forgetfulness: when I realized that I forgot to pack the corkscrew in one of the bags of Things I Will Need Before the Moving Truck Will Arrive and so I'll Pack it in My Car (See also Clampetts and Strategize). Fortunately, I found a Swiss Army knife at the bottom of one of said bags (where it came from, I have no idea), and fortunately, the Swiss like to open a bottle of wine in between using their gadget to gut fish and file their nails. Diane, I know what you're going to say: I could have avoided this whole frustration if I would just switch to boxed wine. I'm taking it under advisement.

(Wishing and) Hoping (and thinking and praying): 'Twas the night before moving, and all through the town, neighbors heard cursing as we battened the damn truck down. Once the strategizing was over, all we could do was hope and pray that we did a good job and that the majority of our stuff would arrive in one piece (thankfully, with few exceptions, it did).

Limbo (See also Waiting): What do you do when you're on vacation from work so that you can unpack a truck that has yet to arrive? Why, you go shopping of course! (And see Eclipse for a third time. WHAT?! My mother had yet to see it. I was just being a good daughter.) Being in limbo is unsettling, but it can also be kinda fun.

Strategize (See also Clampetts): After having to pack a seventeen-foot trailer by ourselves, I now understand why movers charge so much. We had to use almost as much brain power as we did muscle to load the truck. Trying to figure out the puzzle of how to fit everything in so that it was secure and didn't get damaged wasn't easy. Happily, Hubby and I were much better at this game than we are at Tetris. (*whispering* Actually, we're pretty good at it, but don't tell. If anyone asks if they should call us for help, let them know that our stuff came off the truck so damaged, we had to buy all new furniture. Thanks.)

Waiting (See also Limbo): Lucky for Mimi, she didn't have to wait to get out of her cat carrier for nearly as long as we had to wait for our trailer. Why don't trucks ever arrive when they say they're going to? This is why you pack your TV in the car and turn on cable before you even turn on the water. (Are you writing this down? It's a tip to live by.)

Zen: When all was over, and our bruises were healed and our muscles no longer ached, we forgot about all the hassles of the move and enjoyed the Zen of our new home. HA! Maybe if your name is Mimi. As for me, I learned a very valuable lesson: when moving down the coast, HIRE MOVERS.

Still Alive, Still Obsessed

I'm so sorry that I made some of you pee yourselves with my Chuckie story. Okay, not really. If it makes you feel better, your comments made me almost pee myself. Now, before any of you go feeling too sorry for my MIL, it should be noted that she, herself, is quite the prankster. Exhibit A: Last December, my SIL and SSIL borrowed my MIL's car to hit the sales the day after Christmas. After cleaning out Target and Hallmark (the must-go-to stores), we decided to take a peek at Kohl's. Imagine how stoked we were to get a parking spot at the very front of the store! We made several celebratory comments, and then refocused on hunting for sales. While we were waiting on the checkout line, we called my MIL to see if she wanted to meet us for lunch. She asked where we were, and we made plans to meet in twenty minutes. Bags in hand, the three of us gals were so happy we had only a short distance to walk. All at once (the reaction was so coordinated, you would have thought that we had rehearsed it), we looked up, gasped, looked at each other, and exclaimed, "Where's the car?!" While my very-pregnant SIL freaked out about the car, my SSIL and I were freaking out about our Target and Hallmark purchases. (What? She had car insurance. My ten-dollar flannel sheet purchase was irreplaceable!) My SIL, the very smart woman that she is, decided we should call Hubby before the police - just in case someone was trying to punk us. And punk us they did. As Hubby described it, my MIL thought it would be hilarious to move the car while we were in the store. Hilarious indeed. So trust me, The Great Chuckie Reveal of 2010 was well deserved.  ;)

And now back to my regularly-scheduled gobbledygook. (Seriously, is there any better phrase?)

Parts 2, 3, and 4 of my absence (there is a part 5, but that will come later), in no particular order, included helping a friend with a project, having my mother come to visit, and getting sick. Like plague sick. Okay, maybe that's a slight hyperbole. Anyway, apparently there is this organism called a mold spore that floats in the mountain air whenever it's moist. Like when it rains. Or snows. Or is humid. So basically ALL. THE. TIME.

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Said mold spore and I do not get along. In fact, we pretty much hate each other. This year, we've had at least one knock-down, drag-out fight every month. Since I was unable to take sick time after just having taken several vacation days, the mold spore won for the month of May.

Yep, I just Photoshopped a crown onto a mold spore.

Yep, I need a life.

Anyhooo... this weekend, I was finally able to get back into all my latest obsessions (because as we all know, it's not enough for me to just like something; I have to be addicted to it):

1. There is no show more perfect for a musical-loving geek like me than Glee. Moreover, it makes me so happy. Seriously, I challenge you to be in a bad mood while Schuester is rapping like much better than Vanilla Ice or rocking out with NPH.

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I listen to all four soundtracks almost daily and usually re-watch the episodes online the morning after they've originally aired. Yes, my name is Cheryl, and I'm a Gleek.

2. My love of Glee has spawned a new obsession with the Spring Awakening soundtrack.

(Warning: lyrics in the following video are not for small ears.)

If Jonathan Groff's voice was the last I ever heard, I'd die a happy girl.

3. Speaking of cute boys, it's possible that I may have the tiniest online obsession with Ryan Lochte. As I've said before, this is entirely his fault. If he'd keep his shirt on a little more, maybe I wouldn't look so much.

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After being away from Twitter, I find one of my first thoughts to be, "OMG, it's been like an entire day since I've read Ryan Lochte's Twitter stream! Must. Check. For. New. Pictures." Before you get all judgmental and start calling me a cougar, let me just say that at least I'm not one of these women who tweet how hot he is to his face. I prefer to swoon from afar. It's slightly less creepy that way.

4. In two weeks, my affair with Eric Northman will begin again.

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I finally read the new Sookie book, and while it was admittedly not my favorite, it did get me pumped for the new season of True Blood. Right now, Hubby and I are re-watching the second season, and I've been obsessively replaying the minisodes. When June 13 rolls around, I will be ready. Oh yes, I will.

5. The only explanation this last one needs is this: 30 days!!!

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My ABCs

I feel good... DaNaNaNaNaNaNa. It's day 2 of my fitness goal, and I am not only on track, but also enjoying it. Don't get me wrong - I'm not jumping out of bed with a spring in my step or anything. To the contrary, I lay in bed for 30 minutes talking myself into it and then drag myself downstairs at a sloth's pace. But after the second or third yoga pose, my eyes are finally open, and I'm proud of myself for making a good choice.

As I was thinking yesterday about the many things I try to fit in my day and the ever growing list of pastimes I try to juggle, I was reminded of my eighth grade year when my parents made me choose between continuing my dance lessons or taking Spanish class at the high school. Even though the choice was easy (a good dancer I am not), I remember thinking that it was unfair. I was interested in both, so why couldn't I do both? That was the first (but certainly not the last) time I got the "you can't do everything" spiel. I attempted to prove my parents wrong as I got old enough to make the kinds of decisions that would allow me to do so, taking an obscene number of college-level classes my junior and senior years in high school while attempting to participate in numerous extra-curricular activities. I survived it, but it wasn't pretty. I was burning the candle at both ends, as my mother loved to remind me, and as an adult looking back, I can see the toll it took on me both physically (eating Taco Bell at 10:00 at night after drama rehearsal only to fall asleep in your books a few hours later does not make for the healthiest regimen) and emotionally (I think my flare for the dramatic had less to do with me being in drama and more with me being tired and stressed all the time). But I didn't stop and learn my lesson then. No, I continued the frantic behavior through college and well into my career. Only now (we won't count how many years after high school that is), am I starting to learn a new set of ABCs: attitude, balance, and choice.

Attitude

It's bad enough trying to do everything; it's even worse trying to be perfect at everything you're trying to do. When I make the decision to take on a big load, I know now that I have to shift my attitude. For instance, this month I'm participating in three scrapbooking endeavors - two classes at Big Picture Scrapbooking and one Layout a Day challenge. When I'm taking just one class, I can expect myself to keep up with the assignments and fully engage on the message boards. Similarly, if all I'm doing is the LOAD challenge that month, I can expect to make 30 good layouts. But if I want to have it all, I have to change my attitude and accept the fact that I can't comment on every discussion board, nor is every layout I make going to be perfect. If my expectations aren't realistic, I'm setting myself up for disappointment and possibly even a dislike for otherwise enjoyable activities.

Balance

Some people are content to have one hobby; I wish I was one of them, but I'm not (all the blame for that one goes to my "renaissance man" dad). As is evident by my all-over-the-place blog, I like to spend my time doing a myriad of things. Admittedly, some things I try for a time and am content not to adopt on a lifelong basis. But as I get older, I find more and more that I like - and want - to do. Though it took me decades, I finally get what Mom told me all those years ago. I might be able to do it all, but definitely not at the same time. So I have to find a balance. I can no longer scrapbook every minute between dinner and bedtime every day if I also hope to crank out another chapter. In fact, that's one of the reasons I'm no longer trying to blog everyday right now: I decided to focus this month on scrapbooking because all of these fun things are happening in that world right now, and I'll turn my focus back to blogging when that calms down. In order to achieve balance, I have to be willing (there's that attitude thing again) to make choices.

Choice

I realized yesterday, that I was really missing my piano playing (when I say piano, I mean keyboard, and when I say playing, I mean tinkering). But I also had a blog post brewing. And I wanted to create a layout for the day because I had skipped Sunday (which I was okay with thanks to an attitude adjustment). (And I might have also wanted to watch The Bachelor... don't judge.) So I made a choice. I spent the hour I would have blogged playing the piano, and I made a quick, not-so-great (but I was okay with that, too) digital layout while watching The Bachelor. My attitude and choice achieved balance. And in turn, the balance affected my attitude, making me super happy that I progressed in learning a new song.

So what if it took me more than a decade to learn? Now I know my ABCs...

Better late than never

Happy weekend!

Thank you all so much for your kind words on my last post. It's a comforting reminder that I have such supportive friends. ☺

So a few project follow-ups, and then I'll be back later with the first of a recurring Sunday post.

December Daily

When I decided to do a December Daily album, I knew (and admitted) that it wasn't going to get done in a timely fashion. It's surprisingly getting done a lot faster than anticipated (the silver lining to a lay off?), with about 1/4 done before the next December. Since I already did a lot of the journaling on my blog, I decided to go 100% digital. I'm going to print the pages 4x6 and slip them into a great album my FIL got me. The numbers are 31 Days Circle Numbers by Ali Edwards. All other elements are PSE 6.

Project 165 365

Last year, I attempted Project 365, where you take one photo a day for a year. In reality, it turned out to be more like Project 165. What's that saying about try, try again? Yeah.

If you're venturing to complete the same project, check out Project Life by Becky Higgins. She has a great digital option that will make it super easy to look back at your year in photos. Until it goes live (which will hopefully be next week), I went back to using ShutterCal to track the dailies (mainly because I absolutely love the calendar view).

http://shuttercal.com/calendar/secondglantz/

A word about goals

Even though you can't tell, thanks to my lack of relevant posts, I'm in the midst of taking this class.

Today's prompt is about using your blog to set goals. When I read this, I thought that it would be the perfect opportunity to revisit my 101 in 1001 project and see what I can cross off the list (believe it or not, I've actually completed a decent amount of items). But then I took a look at the list again, after not having seen it in a while, and this post suddenly took another direction.

Goals and priorities both change with time. A year after writing my list, there are several things on there that are no longer important to me. While I agree that it's just as important to have long-term goals as it is to have short-term ones, I'm thinking 101 of them are just too many for me. I could complete the list so that I could one day say "I did it," but of what value would that be to me if I didn't care about the goals I completed?

So while I realize I might catch some flak for being a quitter (not that it's the first time, nor will it probably be the last), I've decided to abandon the project; I have new goals that I'd rather spend my time working toward achieving, the first and biggest of which is to finish writing the story on which I've been working.

In other news, thanks so much to those of you who took time to share your feedback on my holiday gift post. Your support, as always, is greatly appreciated. I bought supplies yesterday to make more, including some Christmas-themed ones, and I'm going to see how they do on Etsy. Like so many of you pointed out, it can't hurt to try. I'll let you know when I open up shop. ☺

Weekend Update

On Sunday nights, I always find myself wishing that I had been more productive over the weekend. Granted, my goals consisted of very little productivity to begin with.

This weekend, I'm hoping to sleep in. Late. As in past 8:00.

FAIL. Apparently "past 8:00" is no longer part of my sleeping regimen.

I am also hoping to catch up on the DVR'd shows I'm embarrassed to admit I record (e.g., 90210, Vampire Diaries, a month's worth of soaps).

I didn't catch up on 90210 or the Vampire Diaries (I'm going to be in so much trouble with MBS), but I'm now only two weeks behind in my soaps. Does that count as productivity?

And hopefully while I'm killing brain cells catching up on my TV, I can also catch up on the scrapbook I'm supposed to be 3/4 done with for the class I'm taking. What's that you ask? How far along am I? I plead the fifth.

Okay, here's where the only actual productivity occurred, aside from doing the dishes. I didn't get as far along as I had hoped, but this particular scrapbooking project requires a lot of writing, so I guess I'm just going to have to be patient. Based on Amy Krause Rosenthal's Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life, the idea is to chronicle tidbits about yourself in alphabetical order. For instance, here are my entries for A:

Aerosmith

Steven Tyler. Joe Perry. Can I have both, please? So what if they’re old enough to be my dads? They’re welcome in my bed anytime. Okay, all lust aside, Aerosmith rocks. I’ve seen them in concert more than any other band, and I go to MGM Studios just to ride their rollercoaster. I can’t remember a time I didn’t know who they were, my mom passing her love of them onto me at an early age. When I got to college, I found a roommate who loved them just as much as me (if not more). Road trips for the two of us were like our own personal Aerosmith concerts, and while we rarely fought, we both knew the one thing that could end our friendship was deciding who would go home with Joe Perry. Unfortunately, we were never presented with the opportunity to find out.

Ambidextrous

A little-known fact about me is that I was born left-handed. It wasn’t until we started learning cursive in school that I was encouraged to switch to my right hand. While I now do most day-to-day activities with my right-hand, there are plenty of lefty holdovers. And I can still write with my left hand in a pinch, which sometimes comes in "handy."

Apple, the kind you plug in

Once you go Mac, you never go back. That's the motto in our house. I grew up on Apple computers, my first one (an Apple II+) given to me by my Uncle Joel, complete with black-and-green screen. From playing Clue, Family Feud, and The Wizard of Oz to learning how to program, the ancient Apple saw me through most of my school years. College required a PC, but it wasn't long before I reentered the world of Apple while in grad school, purchasing my first iBook. Three generations of Apple computers, one iPod, and one iPhone later, I'll never go back. See also: iPhone, my other appendage.

Awesome

I use this response entirely too much.

This kind of writing has been really fun, and I would have loved to know this kind of stuff about my parents and grandparents, so I hope it might be appreciated by future generations. I'm trying to get Hubby to do one, too.

Looking ahead, I have a busy work week, but I'm looking forward to continuing my personal writing project. One of my goals is to go to bed a little earlier this week. I'm in the middle of a great book, but I've been too tired at night to pick it up.

I'm excited to share some great links tomorrow, participating in an awesome (there goes that word again) meme from Jen at Daily Mish Mash. If you want to "get your link on" with her, check out the details here.

Here's hoping the start to your week is a great one!

Re: writing

I've had many nice emails, encouraging comments, and follow-up questions about last week's post on making more time to write. Firstly, thank you for all the encouragement.

To get to the heart of the matter, the new schedule is going well so far. Well, the writing part of it at least. I have yet to try the working out part. ☺ In a mere week, I've discovered many things about my writing.

1. As Marla Beck suggests, making writing a habit is key:

In the process, when you write consistently, you're also adding to your manuscript and--if you're working with intention and focus--learning and practicing your craft.

Do your work. Write. By doing so, whether you realize it or not, you inspire others around you to do the same.

-Marla Beck, The Relaxed Writer: Please Write. Now.

Not every writing session is a winner. There are mornings when what I write will more than likely be tossed in the end, but the actual exercise of writing is productive. That's why I don't feel guilty about blogging or spending hours journaling for a scrapbook. Writing, like anything else in life, takes practice. And simply put, writing is writing; it doesn't matter what you write as long as you're doing it.

2. In her classes and books, Stacy Julian explains that scrapbooking is not restricted to making layouts; scrapbooking also includes taking and editing photos, organizing memorabilia, and gathering materials. Much in the same way, writing isn't only manuscripting. It also includes brainstorming, outlining, researching, and in my case, a ridiculous amount of jotting ideas down on sticky notes. Tuesday morning, I ran out of time for "actual" writing, but I made a great amount of progress outlining and clarifying aspects of the plot that, up until that point, had been unclear. To me, that writing session is just as productive as having written ten pages of the story.

3. A chunk of my story is told through flashback, so I found it essential to create a timeline (I'm using xTimeline) to keep the timing of events straight. But what I've found is that I need to stay open-minded and flexible with my plot. Sometimes a character will take over and move the story into a completely different direction than I intended. At first, this freaked me out a little (I have control issues), but I've come to realize that it's not only okay, but also pretty cool.

4. And speaking of flexibility, allowing myself to be flexible with my schedule is a good thing. My morning "me time" is from 6-9. My goal is to spend 2 of those hours somehow engaged in the writing process. How I divvy up that time might change from day-to-day (e.g., one morning I wrote from 6:30-8:30; another morning, I wrote from 6-7 and then took a 30-min break before picking my pen back up), and that's fine. What works one day might not work on another.

5. I'm more productive if I write what strikes my fancy when I put my pen to paper (yes, I said pen to paper; I like the kinesthetic satisfaction of writing the old-fashioned way). With programs like Story Mill and Storyist, I can easily stitch my scenes together in the correct order. (Note: when I'm ready to transfer my writing from my spiral notebook to the computer, I like using distraction-free writing software, such as Write Room [Mac] and Dark Room [PC]. It helps me stay focused [aka off the Internet]). Writing what I want, instead of forcing myself to write "what's next," is a great motivator.

6. Setting small goals works. Using a technique, such as bookending (thanks, Marla!) can help keep me on track if I'm dawdling. (I also use this technique a lot in my day job.) It's amazing how much you can get done in 15-min chunks!

And finally (I promise), I feel like I need to clarify a statement I made in my earlier post:

And even when I do get up early, the time is usually wasted on email and Facebook.

I do not consider my time online to be a waste - far from it, in fact. Working from home, my Twitter and Facebook time is equivalent to talking around the water cooler in an office or catching up in the mail room at a school. Furthermore, my time online has allowed me to both reconnect with old friends and make new friends I otherwise never would have met. What I really meant in my post is that having a social media blackout during my writing time is really the only way I can keep myself honest. If Twitter were running in the background, I'd probably only be writing a fraction of my designated time because I'd be distracted. That's another reason I really like writing with pen and paper: no need to open my computer at all, so staying "unplugged" is easy.

Of course, it was through the Internet that I received all of your correspondence. And through that correspondence, I found out that so many of you write and are also looking for more time to do so. I hope you do. ☺